It wasn't like Kai Arden stopped keeping an eye on Alina Carte after that day. Kai Arden's attention had developed an unhealthy fixation.
It clung to Alina Carter like a shadow with anxiety issues. Every second—literally every second—his gaze found her again, as if his eyes had memorized the exact coordinates of her presence. If she moved, his attention followed. If she stopped, his mind immediately filled the silence with suspicion.
Kai was convinced of one immutable truth: Alina had not entered his house without a reason. People did not blackmail Kai Arden, secure an irrevocable license, and then casually make themselves comfortable without an agenda lurking beneath the surface.
And until he uncovered that agenda, Kai decided—very seriously—that he would watch her. Constantly. Which, unfortunately for him, turned out to be a terrible idea.
The first battlefield was the kitchen. Alina stood at the counter, calm and focused, chopping vegetables with an ease that suggested she had done this many times before. Her sleeves were rolled up, her hair loosely tied, a few strands already escaping and brushing her cheek. Everything about her posture screamed domestic normalcy.
Which immediately set Kai's instincts on fire. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, posture deliberately casual, as though he had wandered in by accident. Internally, however, his brain was running at full speed.
Why was she chopping so slowly?
Why did she pause between cuts?
Why did she look at the spice rack like that?
His gaze locked onto her hand as she reached for a small container. Kai straightened. She opened it. He leaned forward slightly. She sniffed it. His jaw tightened. She tilted it over the pan, sprinkling the contents with careful precision. That was it.
Kai took a step forward, eyes narrowing, entire body tense as though he was about to dismantle a bomb rather than watch someone cook dinner.
"Are you mixing something?" he asked abruptly.
Alina didn't turn around. "Salt," she replied calmly.
Kai stared at the pan as it might confess. "Salt," he repeated slowly, as if testing the word.
"Yes," she said.
He cleared his throat, attempting to recover some dignity. "Just… checking."
"Checking what?"
"The… expiration date."
She finally turned to look at him, eyebrow arching in mild disbelief. "On salt?"
Kai nodded with grave seriousness. "It's deceptive. Looks harmless. Often isn't."
She stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged and returned to cooking. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Try not to interrogate the cumin."
Kai retreated, backing away with the seriousness of a man who believed he had narrowly avoided disaster. He stepped straight into the trash can, stumbled, recovered with heroic effort, then walked face-first into the refrigerator door.
He exited the kitchen with what he hoped was composure. The moment he was alone, he whispered fiercely, "I almost caught her."
The bathroom incident was worse. Much worse. Alina entered the bathroom with her phone in hand, closing the door behind her. Kai froze mid-step in the hallway, his entire body reacting as though an alarm had gone off.
Why did she need her phone?
Who was she calling?
Why was the door closed?
He positioned himself near the door, pretending to scroll through emails, though the screen had long since gone dark. Five minutes passed. Then the sound of running water filled the space. Kai's suspicion skyrocketed.
What was taking so long?
Was she destroying evidence?
Was there a secret panel behind the mirror?
Without fully realizing it, he lowered himself into a crouch. Then lower. Then even lower, until he was half-squatting, one knee bent awkwardly, ear pressed flat against the door. He heard humming.
Kai frowned deeply. That was unsettling. Criminals didn't hum. He adjusted his position, pressing harder against the door just as it opened. Instant chaos followed.
Kai lost his balance completely, stumbling forward and catching himself on the doorframe, ending up bent at a deeply uncomfortable angle—one leg lifted, spine twisted, face far too close to Alina, who stood wrapped in a towel and looking entirely unimpressed. They stared at each other.
"What," she asked slowly, "are you doing?"
Kai straightened too quickly and nearly fell again. "Stretching."
"In front of the bathroom."
"Yes, Excellent for the hips."
She looked at his raised leg, then at his face. "Of course."
She stepped past him, completely unbothered, while Kai remained frozen in position, as though gravity had temporarily forgotten him.
When he finally collapsed against the wall, he muttered, "I almost caught her."
The bedroom stakeout was the lowest point of his dignity. When Alina closed her bedroom door that night, Kai moved like a man on a mission. He approached silently, knees bent, shoulders tense, convinced that whatever secret she was hiding would finally reveal itself.
He crouched near the door, lowering himself inch by inch until he was practically squatting like his legs had forgotten their purpose. He pressed his ear to the wood. Nothing. He adjusted. Pressed harder. Still nothing. He leaned in just a bit more.
The door opened instantly. Kai pitched forward, landing bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard, face dangerously close to Alina's waist. Their eyes met. Her expression was calm. Curious. Mildly entertained.
"Kai," she asked, "why is your ear on my door?"
His mind went completely blank then, without warning or logic, he straightened and began doing jump squats.
One.
Two.
Three.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Workout," he said breathlessly. "Can't you see?"
She watched him bounce down the hallway, arms pumping like a malfunctioning athlete, face completely serious.
"…In the hallway?" she asked.
"Full-body routine," he replied, jumping past her. "Very advanced."
The moment he turned the corner, he sprinted into his room, locked the door, and collapsed onto the bed.
"I almost had her," he groaned into the pillow.
What Kai Arden refused to admit—absolutely refused—was that the real problem wasn't Alina's mystery. It was that she was doing absolutely nothing wrong. And somehow, every attempt to catch her only resulted in Kai catching himself—lurking, squatting, listening, and humiliating himself in ways no enemy had ever managed before.
And the worst part? Alina never called him out. She just smiled. And Kai, for the first time in his life, had no idea whether he was hunting a secret… Or being expertly played for entertainment.